Post-Exhumation
by CrazyCabernet
Summary: Series of one-shots about R and Julie's lives after everything is said and done. Oh, and they might also have a daughter starting in the second one, haha!
1. A Barefoot Bride doesn't Need Tradition

**AN: Ok, so remember in "Journey to the Past" when I was all like, "OOOH, I'M GONNA DO A THING WITH R AS A DADDY!" and stuff? Well, I did! And it ended up turning into a three-shot instead of a one-shot like I'd originally planned, lol! But anyway, here's the first of those three shots, and I promise that the next one will have Diane!**

**OOOOH, BTW, I got two Warm Bodies shirts at Hot Topic yesterday, and they gave me some Warm Bodies Valentines cards since I bought Warm Bodies stuff, and guess where those card are now? That's right, tacked up on my bedroom wall! XD One of them has a picture of M on it, and it says, "A good wingman just needs to look alive." I thought that one was pretty funny. They all have stuff that's on some of the posters, but I hadn't seen that one before like I had seen the others, so I just got a little more of a laugh out of it than I did with the puns on the others, that's all.**

**So, anyway, yeah! Hope you like this, and the other two shots will be up within mere moments, scout's honor!**

**I OWN NOTHING AND DENY EVERYTHING! XD**

**—Maggie**

* * *

"Julie, it's bad luck, tradition—"  
"Screw tradition! It's my wedding, if I wanna show him, then I'm _going_ to show him!"

I can hear this from somewhere down the hallway, but I don't really pay much attention, because I am too busy trying to figure out if this thing on my chin is a mark that's actually a part of my skin, like a freckle or a mole, or something with puss inside that needs to be popped. Then I hear the door to the bedroom open and realize that Julie and Nora are here. "R!" Julie says. "R, where'd you go? Come here, I want to show you something!" I glance over my shoulder. "Coming," I call. I frown at my reflection, still wondering about that thing on my chin, then grab the closest towel and start working on drying my hair as I leave the bathroom. "Well," Julie's voice says. "What do you think?" I move the towel away from my face and suddenly forget how to breathe. She is gorgeous.

She is wearing a white sundress that falls to her knees, and her blonde hair is in a low updo with little white flowers in it. Her makeup is done in colors and shades that are like the ones seen in the sunrise over the ocean, which matches some of the flowers in the bouquet she is holding. On her left foot is one of those "barefoot" sandals, and around the other ankle is a sterling silver ankle bracelet with an infinity symbol and a single, tiny turqoise bead side-by-side.

I blink slowly. "You..." I say dumbly. Her face falls a bit. "That bad?" she asks. That snaps me out of it. "No!" I say, shaking my head. I go over to her and place my hands on her shoulders. "No, not at all. You look...It's just...I-I'm speechless. I mean, you just...Wow. I mean, that's all I can say, really, is...wow. The only word that comes to mind right now is...breathtaking. And by breathtaking, I mean that until just a minute ago, I literally could not remember how to breathe. But...I do have a question."

"What's that?" she asks. I point at her feet and raise an eyebrow questioningly. She laughs. "Oh, that!" she says. "The way I figure, since we're kind of trying to bring the beach to this, there's no reason that shoes should be an absolute nessecity for...well, anybody, really. Besides, I've always kind of wanted to wear one of these sandal things. I've just always thought they look cool and I've been curious about what it's like to wear one, so I figured that this is as good an excuse as any to finally wear one, you know?"

"Julie," Nora says from the doorway. She is leaning with her arms crossed and one bare foot against the doorframe. Her hair is done in a classic Grecian plait with little jade beads, probably on bobby pins, scattered throughout, and much like Julie, she has tendrils hanging loose. Her only decoration is the anklet on her right foot, pink and purplish beads that match the coral colored dress she is wearing. Her bouquet is almost exactly the same as Julie's, the only difference being that Nora's is slightly smaller.

"Julie," she says again, gesturing out into the hall with her head. "Come on, will you? You've shown him, now let's go, alright? I get that you're wanting to go against this tradition, but seriously, let's not push our luck with it. Besides, R's not even dressed yet, we've gotta let him finish getting ready." Julie looks at me and smiles as she pushes some of my wet hair away from my eyes and kisses me. "Meet me at the altar, okay?" she says. I return her smile and nod. "I'll be there, promise," I tell her. We kiss again, and this one is more lingering. Nora clears her throat, and we break apart. As Julie follows Nora into the hall, I notice that her eyes linger on my bare chest before she closes the door behind herself, though it's not as if I've got a six pack or anything; I'm too scrawny for that.

I finish drying my hair, then start getting dressed. As I'm fighting with the buttons on the cuff of one of my sleeves, I notice a subtle glint from the corner of my eye and turn. It's the sunglight reflecting off the ring. All thoughts of my sleeve currently abandoned, I pick it up off the dresser and sit down on the end of the bed holding it between my fingers. I sit there and study it closely, turning it around so that the gemstone catches the light at different angles, allowing me to watch an entire rainbow of colors glittering in its surface. There is a knock, and the door opens. It is M. "Ready?" he asks. I take a deep breath and let it out, then look up at him and smile. "Yeah," I say. "Yeah, I'm ready." He holds his hand out. I already know what he is asking for, and I give it to him, placing the ring in his open palm as we meet each other's eyes, neither of us speaking a word. M places the ring in his pocket, then claps me on the shoulder.

M and I do not speak much when it is just the two of us. We do not need to. After spending practically our entire Deaths together and not being able to speak properly to one another, we have sort of developed a way of speaking without words. Since re-joining the Living, we have been able to further the development of this unspoken language. We have now reached a point with it that allows us to have entire conversations without ever speaking a single word to each other, and while on cmopletely opposite ends of the room to boot. Now, I don't want to brag or anything, but I believe that M and I have earned the right to be proud of ourselves and this special mutual skill that we have put so much work into perfecting as a two-man team.

We keep our unspoken conversation going for most of the walk down the hall, and once we leave it, we just walk together in comfortable silence, this time one that applies to both the outside world, and to the two of us.

* * *

Julie is wearing a silver ring on her left hand. It has stars engraved on it and a half moon instead of a diamond or other gemstone. The one on my own hand matches, but instead of stars and a moon, the band itself is blank, and where the moon is on Julie's, there is a gold sun with a yellow jewel that I don't know the name of serving as the center. They are made to go together in more ways than one. Half of the sun's rays are absent on mine, and if we put the ray-less half of the sun into the cradle of the moon, it resembles an eclipse.

We will be wearing these rings every day from now on until we die. These are the rings that M carried in his pocket earlier. These are the rings that we put on each other. These are our wedding rings. We are married. I am Julie's husband, and she is my wife.

By now, we have moved into the reception. The whole thing is being held at a church within the city. The actual ceremony was in the smaller chapel building, and now things have moved into the bigger building with what had once been Sunday school rooms on the second floor. Julie has remained barefoot the entire time, but Nora slipped a pair of Keds on for the walk across the grounds when we started to shift from one building to the other. She has taken them off again, and they now rest underneath the table in front of her chair. Julie's bare feet had gotten quite a few stares as she was walking down the aisle earlier, but she was either ignoring them or unaware. I myself was having to repress laughter at the sight of it all.

Julie gives me a sideways look and shakes her head slightly. "What?" she asks. This feels like one of those moments where it's okay to shrug, so I do. "What what?" I say. Julie giggles a little. "You keep staring at me, that's what what," she says. I shrug again and shake my head. "I can't help it," I tell her. "It's not my fault you look so beautiful and worthy of being stared at." Her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink, and I lean over to kiss her.

Julie is beautiful, and she is mine.

* * *

**AN: I actually made a set on Polyvore with Julie's wedding outfit and the rings, it's just not up yet because I haven't thought of a name for it yet, but once I do, I'll post the link to it on my profile for anyone who wants to see it and let you know.**

**—Maggie**


	2. Naptime Hiccups

**AN: Here she is, everybody, little Diane! I hope you think she's adorable like R and I do! n_n**

**I OWN NOTHING (except Diane, she's totally mine XP) AND DENY EVERYTHING! XD**

**—Maggie**

* * *

I am helping Diane as she takes unsteady steps through the living room. The soft blonde fluff on her head still doesn't quite seem to qualify as hair just yet. She stops walking and stares at her toes for a minute, then looks up at me with the same blue eyes that I see when I look in a mirror, though hers are much wider than mine are right now. I smile at her. She smiles back, then lets out a happy, high-pitched squeal that makes me laugh, which, in turn, makes her giggle.

Diane is mine and Julie's daughter. She is going to be two years old in little over a month. She is named after Julie's mother. She is tiny and beautiful and perfect and I love her just as much as I love Julie. When she was born, I did not need to be shown how to hold her. I somehow just..._knew._ I had fallen completely in love her within mere moments of holding her. From the very moment I first saw her, I was overcome with the need to love, nurture, and protect her. I still am. It is not as overwhelmingly intense as it was during the first couple months or so of her life, but it is definitely still there, and I suspect that it always will be, no matter how old she gets.

For the past few weeks, she has been standing up on shaky legs, taking a few uncertain steps at a time, and then falling back down again. The first time she did this, Julie was a little surprised that she didn't start crying after she fell, instead just blinking a few times as if questioning how she'd ended up back on the floor, then getting back up to try again. I did not, and still don't, understand why Julie was surprised by this. Diane has never really cried as much as most babies. Dirty diaper? Big deal. She'll just sit there and keep playing with her toys, and neither of us will know until we either pick her up or get down on the floor with her and smell it.

Julie says that Diane is like this because, quote, "although her father is very eloquent, he is not exactly given to long, drawn out speeches and the like, and is, for the most part, a softspoken man of few words." She says that because of this, it only makes sense for Diane to be a rather quiet baby since she is my daughter. Whether this is actually the case or not is, according to Nora, up for debate, but I don't particularly care either way, because I would not love Diane any less if she did cry as much as other babies. Either way, she is still my little girl.

"Rrrrr...whipped," a voice says. I look up. M is standing in the doorway grinning at me. Sometimes we talk to each other as if we are still Dead just to be goofy. I shake my head at him. "No," I say, slowly lifting one arm and pointing a slightly limp finger at him. "Mmm...just...a player," I slur. He starts laughing, which makes Diane burst into a stream of giggles. "I am not," he says. I nod. "You are, and you know it. Dude, you lived in the womens' bathroom the way I lived in the 747, you stood around with groups of female zombies, and unless I'm quite mistaken, I do believe that I walked in on you with an old softcore not long before I met Julie."

"Boys, boys, boys, please," Julie says as she comes into the room. "Not in front of the baby, please." M rolls his eyes. "Why?" he asks. "It's not like she understands anything we're saying." Julie and I glance at each other and exchange a smirk. "She's like her daddy," Julie says as I lift Diane up off the floor. "She doesn't really say much, but you can tell just by looking at her eyes that she's got a lot going on inside that head of hers. It wouldn't surprise me if she understands more than we realize. I know she understands what it means when someone says it's naptime."

Diane makes a small noise. Julie smiles at her. "Naptime," she says again, and Diane repeats the noise. I laugh. "That's adorable, how'd you figure that out?" I ask. Julie has yet to stop smiling, and now she directs it at me. "You ever notice how every time we say, 'Alright, sweetie, it's naptime,' she suddenly seems to get the hiccups?" she asks. I nod. Julie runs her fingers through Diane's fluff-hair. "Well," she says, "it suddenly hit me the other day that once we pick her up and go to put her to sleep, those hiccups seem to just magically disappear. And so I started saying 'naptime' to her over and over again, and every time I did, she'd make that same noise, and it finally clicked together that what we've always assumed to be a hiccup is actually a reaction to hearing us say the word 'naptime.'"

I look at Diane and raise an eyebrow. "Naptime," I say. She makes her little hiccup-type noise. "Naptime," I say again, and again, Diane makes a noise like a hiccup. I laugh. "Wow," I say. "Wow, that's just...insanely adorable." Diane turns her head to look at me and grins, and I smile back at her, and not for the first time, I am struck by how lucky I am to have these two beautiful girls in my life every day. I feel like I don't deserve them, or the happiness that they bring me, but apparantly some higher power out there did not share this opinion with me, because somehow, some way, I have ended up with both of them. And I am grateful for that. I do not know to what, or to whom I am grateful. But nevertheless, I am grateful for it, and I always will be.

* * *

**AN: She's cute, right? n_n There's more of her in the next one, older, and lots more cute daddy stuff going on with R, which I just LOVED writing!**

**—Maggie**


	3. Of Bikes, Keyboards, and Fairy Tales

**AN: Last one of the original three, though if you guys want, I'd be happy to write more and add them! LOTS of cute daddy stuff going on here with R, I just LOVED writing it all!**

**I OWN NOTHING (except Diane) AND DENY EVERYTHING! XD**

**—Maggie**

* * *

"Don't let go, Daddy!"  
"I have to eventually, kiddo," I say. I am currently holding the handlebars of the bike that Diane is on. She is seven years old, and this is her first time on a bike without training wheels. On Julie's suggestion, it is one with tires that are a bit wider than most bike tires, which Julie says will help her balance a little better while she's still learning how to. I have to take Julie's word for it when it comes to things like this, because with my lack of memory of my old life, I don't really know much about things like riding bikes. I tried to ride one once a few years ago, and I was able to do it with a lot of difficulty, and probably only thanks to what Julie still claims was muscle memory. I myself have never been too sure that such a thing can apply in the case of someone that spent who-knows-how-long as a Corpse and spent all day just shuffling around and groaning. But, then again, who knows? If the Dead can come back to Life, then God only knows what other sort of things might be possible.

Right now, Diane is practically begging me not to let go of the bike, but I just shake my head, tell her to hold on and keep pedalling, then let go and watch as she keeps on going down the street for about ten feet, then suddenly skids the bike to a stop. She looks at me over her shoulder, and her eyes are wide with a mixture of fear and excitement, but her smile is huge, and that's what matters most to me right now. I return her smile as I run over to make sure she's alright. "You were doing great, why did you stop?" I ask. She blows some hair out of her eyes and shakes her head. "Too fast," she says. "Don't they make some kind of spedometer for these things?"

I laugh. "Unfortuanately, no, they don't," I say. "On a bike, you pretty much _are _the spedometer." Diane frowns. "That's dumb," she says. "If cars get spedometers, then why don't bikes?" I think about this for a minute as we begin walking the bike back in the direction we came, then shrug. "I honestly don't know," I tell her. "Maybe because bikes came first? That'd be my best guess." Diane gives me her famous "are-you-for-real" look. "Dad," she says, "bikes did not come before cars, come on."

"Hey, I might not be the best historian in our family," I say, "but I'm pretty sure I'm right about this one, ask your mom if you don't believe me."  
"Oh, believe me, I'm going to," she tells me, flashing a grin that shows off the gaps left from the two baby teeth that she recently lost. Then she takes off towards the house without any warning. "Last one home's a rotted Corpse!" she calls over her shoulder. "Hey, no fair!" I yell. "I wasn't ready for that, you cheater!" All I get in response is laughter.

By the time I reach the house, Diane is standing at the top of the porch steps with her arms crossed and a smug grin. I deliberately bend over so that she can't see my face while I set the bike down, then screw up my face before straightening back up. Just as I expect and intend, she doubles over, shreiking with laughter. The noise draws Julie out of the house to see what's going on, and when I see her, I momentarily forget about everything else in the world, and for that brief instant, she is the only thing in it.

I follow the girls inside, and Diane announces that she's hungry and wants to know when lunch is. Julie tells her it's almost ready, then shoos her into the living room for the time being, telling me to go keep her busy and out of the kitchen, so I follow Diane into the living room, only to find that she has comandeered the electric keyboard that sits in one corner of the room. She is sitting on the stool that goes with the keyboard, banging out some random, meaningless jumble of notes ranging all the way from one end of the keyboard to the other. She likes to do this sometimes, though neither Julie nor I really understands why, or what exactly the point of it is, especially since Diane knows perfectly well how to read sheet music and play actual songs, just like I do.

"Hey," I say to her over the noise of her tangled up song. "What the heck happened to 'I'm gonna practice that Puccini song when we get back from bike practice,' huh?" She stops her banging long enough to shrug at me. "This is more fun," she says, and then promptly goes back to pounding on the keys. She stops again suddenly, a thoughtful look on her face. "Hey, Mom?" she calls. "Yeah?" Julie's voice says from the kitchen. "Did bikes come before cars?" Diane asks. Julie appears in the living room doorway, a slightly confused look on her face and a damp towel hanging over her shoulder. "Where on earth is this coming from?" she asks. "Dad says that bikes came first, but I don't think they did. It was cars first, then bikes, wasn't it?"

Julie shakes her head. "No, actually, I'm pretty sure he's right. I'm almost positive that pictures of people on bikes existed before pictures of people in Model T's did. I'm afraid Dad wins this round." I flash Diane a look that says, "told you." Julie hits me on the shoulder with the towel. I wince from the sting. "Ouch! Jeez, what'd you do, rat-tail that thing?" I ask. She just smirks, then gives me a wink. "Wash up, guys," she says. "Lunch is on the table."

"About time!" Diane shouts, leaping down from the stool and racing into the kitchen. As I watch her run, I can't help but think how much she looks like Julie from behind with her blonde hair flying out behind her the way it does.

* * *

Diane has just come into her bedroom. She is dressed in a black t-shirt that has (among a few other things) a pink owl on it and says, "Who said it was time for bed?" with matching pink pajama pants that have the owl printed all over them. Her hair is braided into pigtails, and she has just finished brushing her teeth. Julie follows her into the room, and Diane runs towards the bed, jumping onto it and making the mattress bounce a little bit as she burrows headfirst underneath the covers, leaving her feet exposed. I tickle the bottom of one. She squeals, and her feet vanish beneath the comforter with the rest of her, then the lump moves around for a moment before she pokes her head out and grins at me and Julie. "Tell me about the princess in the tower again," she says. "Please?" Julie gives me a gentle nudge and a slight nod. Ever since this story became the one that Diane asks for most frequently, Julie has made me memorize so that she is not always the one telling it. I sit down next to Diane on her bed.

"Once upon a time," I say, "in a far off kingdom, there lived a king and queen who loved each other very much, and the queen was going to have a baby soon. But one day, she got very sick, and the doctors told the king that the only way she could be cured was with a magical flower that was said to have bloomed when a single drop of sunlight fell to the earth. The king sent all of his men on a search for the flower, and they found it and brought it back. They put the flower in some water, and the queen drank it, and got better. But what nobody knew was that a witch named Gothel had been using the flower for centuries to keep herself young so that she would never die, and when the king's men picked the flower so their queen could get better, Gothel was left without a way to stay young.

"Well, eventually, the queen had her baby. A little girl, with beautiful golden hair. The king and queen named the baby princess Rapunzel, and the entire kingdom celebrated with them, and everybody adored the little princess. One night, while the king, queen, and princess were asleep, Gothel snuck into their room and cut off a single lock of Rapunzel's hair, knowing that the flower's magic would still work through the baby, but as soon as she did, that piece of hair turned brown. Gothel realized that the magic couldn't work if the hair was cut, and she panicked, thinking she heard guards. So she took the baby from her crib, and disappeared into the night.

"Years went by, and the princess grew up into a beautiful young woman. Gothel never allowed her to cut her hair, though, and so as the princess grew, her hair grew also. Gothel kept the princess in a tall tower in the forest, where nobody would ever think to look for either of them. This tower had no doors, only a single window at the top. So every day, Gothel would come and go through this window. The princess would use her long hair to lower Gothel to the ground, and when Gothel returned, she would call up, 'Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!' And the princess would drop her hair out the window, then use it to lift Gothel back into the tower.

"Well, one day, a prince who was riding through the forest heard a beautiful voice singing, and so he followed it until he found a tower. He saw a young woman in the tower's window, and she was the one who was singing. She had beautiful blonde hair that she was brushing, and the prince fell in love with her. He searched the tower, but didn't find any doors. When he heard someone coming, he hid. It was Gothel, and the prince watched her as she called, 'Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!' And he saw how the princess lifted Gothel into the tower with her hair. So, the next day, he returned. After Gothel had left, he went to stand beneath the window, and he called, 'Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!' And so the princess let down her hair, and the prince was lifted into the tower just like Gothel. For the next few weeks, the prince would come to visit the princess every day, and over time, she fell in love with him just as he had fallen in love with her. One day, though, Gothel came back early."

"No!" Diane says. "Yes!" I say. Julie laughs. "The prince tried to hide, but Gothel found him. She was furious, and in her anger, she accidentally let it slip that she wasn't Rapunzel's mother, which was what Rapunzel had always believed. Realizing her mistake, Gothel tried to cover it up, but it was too late, and the prince looked at Rapunzel and said, 'You are the lost princess of the kingdom that is neighbor to mine! You must be, for you look just like her! How did I not see it before?' Gothel knew then that there was no more point in trying to lie, so she admitted that the prince had spoken the truth, and told Rapunzel of how she had taken her in the dead of night when she was just a baby.

"She then broke a nearby mirror and picked up one of the shards, then stabbed the prince with it. While Gothel stood over his body cackling in triumph, Rapunzel, determined not to let Gothel win, quietly picked up a shard of her own and used it to chop off all her hair, leaving it short and ragged. It turned brown, and so did everything she had cut off. As soon as the hair had left Rapunzel's head, Gothel had felt a pain in her chest and stopped laughing. She turned and saw Rapunzel standing there with the shard of glass in one hand, and the other hand clenched around the end of all her hair. As Gothel watched in horror, Rapunzel let the hair fall to the ground. Gothel began to age rapidly and stumbled backwards until she had one hand on the windowsill. Within moments, she was an ancient old woman, just skin and bones. Rapunzel went to stand in front of her and said, 'This is for my parents.' And without another word, she put one hand on Gothel's chest and pushed, sending Gothel out the window. By the time her cloak hit the ground, there was nothing left of Gothel.

"Rapunzel then rushed back over to the prince and knelt down beside him. She held him in her arms and began to cry over his death, but when the first of her tears touched his cheek, something amazing happened. The tear sank into his skin, and from the spot where it had gone, a warm golden glow began to spread all over his body until finally, he opened his eyes and gasped. He took Rapunzel back to her parents' castle, and they were overjoyed to see that their daughter was safe. The next few months were spent planning, and when the planning was over, there was a big, beautiful wedding at the castle, and everybody in the entire kingdom was invited to see the prince and princess get married."

"And they lived happily ever after, right?" Diane asks. I look at Julie and raise an eyebrow. "I dunno," I say. "What do you think, Julie? Did they live happily ever after?" She laughs softly, then nods. "Yeah," she says. "I'd say they definitely did." Diane sighs happily. "I wish I was a princess so that I could meet a prince and live happily ever after, just like Rapunzel," she says. Then she lets out a big yawn. "Sounds like it's time to go to sleep," Julie says. Diane sticks out her bottom lip in a pout. "But I don't wanna!" she says. "Yes you do," I tell her as I get up and pull her covers up over her. "No I don't," she retorts. I open my mouth to reply, but Julie shoots me a look that clearly says not to get started with one of these games right now, so instead of my originally planned response, I just say, "If you don't at least try to get to sleep, the boogeyman will come and eat you, and I don't think you want that anymore than your mom and I do. So at the very least, I'd close my eyes and try to just relax if I were you."

She giggles as I kiss her on the forehead. "'Night, kiddo," I say. Diane grabs her stuffed panda toy and hugs it close to her chest. "'Night, Daddy," she says. I wait patiently in her doorway for Julie to finish telling her goodnight, then we leave the room together. Once we're far enough away from Diane's room that we can talk without disturbing her, I turn to Julie. "That story wouldn't happen to be based on true events, would it?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. She laughs softly and shakes her head.

"It's an actual fairy tale," she says. "It was one of the ones that was originally recorded by the Brothers Grimm. Disney made it into a movie called _Tangled_, only the prince became an outlaw named Flynn Rider, whose real name he later tells Rapunzel is Eugen Fitzherbert, and instead of seeing her from a distance and falling love, he climbed into the tower to escape from the people who were chasing him after he'd stolen the missing princess' tiara, and then Rapunzel hit him on the head with a frying pan and knocked him out. And instead of visiting her every day, he took her out of the tower for the first time in her life, and they ended up having this crazy adventure and eventually fell in love and got separated courtesy of Gothel and her deceit, then Razpunzel figured out she was the missing princess by putting clues together in her head, then Flynn showed up and...well...Long story short, Rapunzel cut her hair, Flynn died and came back to life, Gothel disintegrated, and then Flynn and Rapunzel got married at the end."

She lets out a breath. "I sort of just created my own version of it by combining traditional elements of the story with things from the movie, then filling in the parts I forgot with my own details, but I took out Disney's ongoing gag about Flynn's nose." I have to repress a snort. "I'm sorry, _what?"_ I say. Julie rolls her eyes. "There was this running gag throughout the movie where on all the wanted posters of Flynn, his nose would be drawn completely wrong and it would look ridiculous, and he would be complaining about how his nose was, quote, _'not_ that difficult to draw, I mean seriously, guys, come on! What's up with this, this is just embarrassing!' It was just a goofy little joke they threw in for the fun of it, that's all." She studies me for a moment. "'True events,'" she says as we head into our room. "Now what on earth could you mean by that?"

I can tell from her expression that she is messing with me and knows perfectly well what I meant by it and why I asked it. I laugh and kiss her, the two of us falling onto the bed together. "I love you," I whisper. And even though we haven't bothered to turn on any lights, I know that she is smiling in the darkness between us. "I love you too, R," she says. And then her fingers have tangled themselves into my hair, and our lips have met once again.

* * *

**AN: That just seemed like the perfect moment to wrap up with, don't you think? n_n Like I said, if you guys want, I'd be happy to write more of these one-shots to add on to this with!**

**—Maggie**


	4. Corpses, Rings, and Celestial Things

**AN: Okay, I was asked to write more of these, and since I've hid a minor wall on Journey, here's another! I'll probably get past the Journey block within a few days, but in the meantime, I'll keep cranking these out. The idea for this one was given to me by my friend Rue Bladesinger, so Rue, thanks a ton, this one's for you, girlfriend!**

**Love and hugs,  
Maggie**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warm Bodies. I DO, however, own a t-shirt with R on it, a tank top that says "Cold Body, Warm Heart," and six Warm Bodies Valentine's Day cards, all of which are tacked up on my bedroom wall. AIN'T _NOBODY_ GETTIN' DEM CARDS, NO SIREE! XD**

* * *

"Dad, Uncle Marcus said that you and him used to be Dead. Did you really, or is he just making stuff up again?"

This comes from the bedroom while I am in the bathroom drying my hair after having just gotten out of the shower. I grab the change of clothes that I brought in with me, navy blue flannel PJ pants and a plain gray t-shirt, and put them on before heading into the bedroom, where Diane is perched on mine and Julie's bed, her blue eyes wide and expectant. I brush some damp hair out of my eyes and grin at her. "What do you think?" I ask. Diane shrugs. She seems to do that a lot. Julie likes to joke that it must run in my family or something. "I dunno," Diane says. "I guess I think that he's just being silly, but I dunno. Seriously, though, were you Dead or not?"

"Did I just hear her ask if you were Dead?" Julie says as she enters the room. Diane and I both turn to look at her, and I nod in response to her question. "Where on earth did you hear that, baby?" she asks, turning to our daughter. "Uncle Marcus told me," Diane replies. "So, is it true or not? Was Dad really a Corpse, or wasn't he?" Julie and I look at each other. Her eyes are wide with—What, shock? Anxiety? I can't really tell for sure. I respond by giving her a look that, to my facial muscles, anyway, feels sort of helpless. "We knew this would happen eventually," I say. "I mean, it's not like we were deluding ourselves into thinking we could keep it from her forever, we've always known it was going to happen sooner or later, it was always just a question of when, and how it would come up."

Julie sighs. "Yeah, I guess you're right," she says. She sighs again, then comes and sits down on the bed with me and Diane. "Sweetheart, the thing you need to understand is that your dad has always been different. He's special in a way that I can't really explain. He just...is. That's how he's always been, ever since I first met him."

"You mean like how his first name is just a letter?" Diane asks. Julie and I look at each other. "Kind of," Julie says.  
"But...you still haven't told me if he was Dead or not."

Again, Julie and I look at each other. I give her a single nod, just a quick bob of my head, and she returns it.

"Once upon a time," Julie says, "in a not-so-far-away land, there lived a girl named Julie Cabernet..."

* * *

"...And everybody lived happily ever after. The end."  
"So...So Uncle Marcus _wasn't _just messing with me? He was telling the truth? He was actually Dead? _You_ were actually Dead? And Mom brought you back to Life by kissing you?"

I shrug. "Maybe it was the kiss, maybe it wasn't," I say. "We may never know for sure. But what we do know is that if it hadn't been for that kiss, I might not be married to your mom, and you might not be here right now." Diane's eyes light up suddenly and she turns to look at Julie. "Mom, what was it like when Dad asked you to marry him? Did he get down on one knee like they do in the movies, or was it more like a Beauty and the Beast type thing? I think that would've kind of made sense, don't you? I mean, since he used to be Dead and everything, you know?"

Julie laughs and shakes her head. "No, it wasn't like Beauty and the Beast," she says, "but he didn't exactly get down on one knee, either." Diane shoots me one of her famous looks. _"Dad," _she says. "What is _wrong_ with you? Don't you understand romance at _all? _I mean, _hello,_ all the guys in the movies get down on one knee, that's like the ultimate way to do it, everybody knows that!" I stretch out on the bed behind the girls, propping myself up on one elbow.

"Alright," I say, "here's what happened; you've seen our wedding rings, how your mom's has the moon and mine has the sun, and it's like an eclipse if we put them together. Well, those were our engagement rings before they were our wedding rings, and there's a reason I picked the ring I did for your mom. I saw the stars on it, and my brain just sort of connected them to your mom, and the logic behind that connection was that finding her was almost like I had been wandering around in the middle of the night with no stars, no moon, nothing to give me any light, and then all of a sudden, there she was, a star had appeared out of nowhere, and even though it was only the one little star, it was still there, and it was giving me light." Julie smiles at me, and I smile back.

"So one night, we were up in the baseball stadium, just the two of us, and we were chasing each other around through the stands, and we eventually wore ourselves out and sat down together. We were just sitting there, looking up at the stars, and it was so beautiful. Remember, Julie?"

She nods. "I remember," she says. "We found a few constellations that night. The Ursas and the Dippers, I think, right?"  
"Yeah, and you also found the North Star," I say. She sighs happily. "Oh, I'd forgotten about that," she breathes. "God, it was so gorgeous."

"And then what happened?" Diane asks, laying down on her stomach and looking at me with wide eyes.  
"Then," I say, "I noticed that your mom was shivering because she was cold, and she climbed into my lap, and I hugged her real tight to warm her up, and she started kissing me. Then she brushed some hair out of my eyes and told me that she loved my eyes, and she wished she could just spend all day staring at them." I look at Julie. "You wanna tell the next part?" I ask. She smiles. "Sure," she says, "why not?" Diane flips over to look at her mother with those wide, eager eyes of hers. "What happened after that, Mom?" she asks. Julie bites her lower lip as she smiles.

"Then," she says, "he said, 'I love you, Julie. I have loved you since I met you, and I will love you until the very momen I stop breathing, and there is nothing that anybody will ever be able to do or say that will change that. You are literally the reason that my heart is beating, and you are literally the reason I am alive. There was a time when I thought we would never be able to be together, and yet, here we are, three years later, sitting here kissing each other. Sometimes I'm afraid I'm going to lose you, and I don't ever want that to happen.' And then he told me to reach into his jacket pocket and take out what was inside, and I did, and it was a box, and when I opened it, my ring was inside."

"And you know what she said?" I cut in.  
"What?" Diane asks. I smirk at Julie and laugh. "She said, 'Is this what I think it is?'" I say. Diane laughs. "What did you tell her?" she asks. Julie giggles, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling. "He told me, 'Julie, I don't remember a thing about my old life, and at this rate, I probably never will, but I really don't care as much as I probably should, because _this_ is my life now, and I might not know much, but what I do know is that I don't ever wanna have to leave your side, and I am absolutely determined to be with you forever, so Julie, will you marry me?'"

"And less than a year later, she did," I say. Diane grins, showing off the gaps in her teeth. "And then you had me," she says. Julie and I laugh. "That's right," I say, mussing her hair. "About two-and-a-half years later, you were born, and we loved you to pieces as soon as you started crying."

"Dad?"  
"Mm-hm?"  
"Do you have any pictures from when you were Dead?"

"As a matter of fact," Julie says, getting up and going over to the desk. "We do have one. The polaroid I took the night we spent in that abandoned house on our way back here from the airport. It should be in the desk drawer somewhere...Ah, here it is!" She brings it back over to the bed and hands it to Diane. I look at it over her shoulder. A Dead man stares out at me. He is wearing a dirty gray t-shirt and red hoodie, both of them with holes. He has dark hair, and his eyebrows are up in surprise, his pale, cloudy blue eyes wide as he leans away from the camera. His slightly parted lips are tinted with blue, and past the lips, part of his front teeth are visible, and they also have blue on them.

He is me. I am looking at myself as I once was; pale and gray-skinned, with cloudy eyes and lips blue from lack of circulation, a network of blue veins spiderwebbing up and down one side of my neck, emerging from beneath the collar of my shirt, the color making them stand out against my otherwise completely colorless skin. My hair is matted and dirty and dripping wet from the storm that Julie and I had been in just before entering the house where she found the camera that took the picture.

Diane is staring at the picture, the look on her face completely entranced. "Wow," she breathes. "Dad...that's really you?" I nod slowly, just as hypnotized as she is by the image. I can hardly believe that this gray, colorless, cloudy-eyed, blue-lipped Corpse staring out at me from the polaroid in my daughter's hand is actually me. It feels so far away from anything that's happened to me. Since this picture was taken, I have been chased by soldiers, fought Boneys, been shot in the shoulder by my wife's father, fought more Boneys, re-learned how to read and write (among other things), had a three year long relationship with Julie, proposed to and married her, and had a daughter with her. Looking at the picture now, twelve-and-a-half years after it was taken, the man staring out at me is almost a total stranger. I look up at Julie. Her expression mirrors mine.

"Twelve years," I say quietly. "Has it really only been that much? It feels longer, like decades ago."  
"Centuries, more like," she says. I nod slowly. "Yeah," I say, "definitely centuries. Hundreds and hundreds of years."

I feel something against the side of my face and realize that it's the picture. Diane is holding it up, probably to compare me to the Dead man in the image. I hold still and just watch her face as her eyes flicker from the polaroid to me, then back again. Then, placing her thumb on the bottom one and her forefinger on the top, she gently and ever so slightly pushes my lips apart, and when she lowers her hand, I keep them that way for whatever purpose she has. She takes another look at the polaroid, then her eyes move back to my face and again, she touches my upper lip with the tip of her index finger, this time tracing the outline of my mouth. Her small hand slowly moves across my entire face bit by bit as she traces my features with her fingers. I close my eyes as she does this, then slowly open them again when I no longer feel her hand on my face. I am met with the sight of her staring at me with eyes that are identical to my own, her head just barely tilted to one side.

"Your eyes were so pale, Daddy," she says quietly. I nod. "Yeah," I say, "I know. But they're not now. And I promise you, they never will be again." Her eyes move down to my neck, to the place where that web of veins used to stand out so clearly and visibly against my skin. I gently take her hand in mine and place it on top of that spot, right above where the fabric of my shirt ends and the skin of my neck begins, the place where that network of veins once disappeared beneath my t-shirt and hoodie. Diane's fingers curl, the tips trailing along the skin in the area where the veins used to be. I suspect that she is probably trying to locate those veins, find them for herself in order to make even more of a connection in her mind between the Corpse in the polaroid and the man that _she _knows me as, the father she has grown up with for the entiriety of all seven years of her life.

"I can't find them," she whispers. Julie kisses the top of her head. "Maybe they're just not supposed to be found," she says. "Like the hoodie that Dad's wearing in this picture. He got rid of it a long time ago because it reminded him of a time that he wanted to forget. Maybe the veins are kind of like the hoodie. They were there once, but now that that time is over, they're gone."

"Do you think they'll ever come back?" Diane asks. Julie and I look at each other, then back at Diane, and Julie shakes her head. "No," she says, "I don't. Think of it this way; as long as his eyes aren't cloudy, those veins won't be on his neck."

"And like I said before, I promise that my eyes won't ever be like that again," I say. Diane throws her arms around my neck. "Good," she says. "I like them better like this." I return the hug, smiling at Julie over the top of Diane's head. "So do I, kiddo," I say.

* * *

**AN: OMG, so I now own my first pair of high heels! AND I'M SIXTEEN, SO IT'S ABOUT TIME! XD**

**Not much else to say right now, except that I'm gonna go see the movie again, hopefully sometime over the weekend, so yay for that! Otherwise...**

**Catch ya'll on the flipside, peeps! XD**

**—Maggie**


	5. Let's Have Another

**AN: Okay, so basically here's how this chapter came about; we're talking about/watching videos that have to do with pregnancy and fetal development in my Child Development class right now, and while we were watching a video a couple days or so ago, I suddenly heard Diane's voice in my head going, "Mom, why don't I have any brothers or sisters yet?" And I said to myself, "PLOT BUNNY!" And that's pretty much how I came up with this one. :/**

**I OWN NOTHING (except Diane) AND DENY EVERYTHING! XD**

**xoxo,  
Maggie**

* * *

"Mom, Dad?"  
"Yeah, baby?"  
"When am I gonna get a brother or sister?"

Julie and I look up at each other, shock on both our faces. We are sitting at the table eating dinner, and Diane has just dropped this on us out of seemingly no where. Julie is the first to recover. She blinks slowly. "Um...well...we didn't know you wanted one," she says. "What's...What's bringing this on, Diane, did something happen that made you decide you want a sibling, or...?" Diane shrugs as she picks at the mashed potatoes on her plate, her chin resting in the hand that's not holding her fork. "Clara's gonna get to be a big sister, so I just thought, why can't I be one, too?"

"You mean Clara Alderman, the girl who already has two older brothers, _that _Clara?" Julie shakes her head at me and mouths the words, _"Settle down in bed already!" _I have to repress laughter at this, lifting my hand up to my face and turning away slightly so that Diane won't see the smile I'm fighting back. "We'll talk about it, alright?" Julie says to Diane. "Right now, quit playing with those potatoes, I didn't make them so you could practice sculpting. You should count yourself lucky that you're not stuck eating carbtein like Aunt Nora and I were. Oh my God, R, stop it! You are seriously not helping right now! I don't know what you think you're doing, but you better stop it right now before I come over there and knock you cross-eyed!"

Diane almost chokes on her water laughing, and when she and I high-five each other, Julie drops her fork, letting it clatter onto her plate as her head falls forward and she catches her forehead in her hand, her hair falling forward to hide her face, but I know her well enough to know for a fact that she is smirking and repressing snickers behind that blonde curtain.

* * *

I spit my toothepaste out in the sink, then head out of the bathroom and fall onto the bed next to Julie, who is sitting cross-legged on her side with a paperback book in her hands. "R," she says, "did you know that apparantly, that movie that Diane watched over at Clara Alderman's birthday party is based on a true story? This guy ran away when he was sixteen, the feds were after him for embezzlement, check fraud, and counterfeit, just to name a few. They chased this kid for years, he was like twenty-one when they finally caught him over in France, and then when he finally got out of jail, he actually ended up teaming up with the FBI agent who'd been chasing him for all those years before finally catching him, he ended up helping with identifying bad checks and stuff, and he and that FBI agent eventually ended up becoming real close friends, how crazy is that?"

"Not to change the subject or anything, but, Julie?"  
"Hmmm?" she says vaguely, nose still in the book. I turn my head and look up at her from where I lay. "Do you think Diane has a point?" She finally lifts her face away from the book, tilting her head as she looks at me in confusion. "About what?" she asks. I push myself into a sitting position, crossing my legs like Julie and brushing some hair out of my eyes. "What she said earlier," I say, "about why can't she be a big sister. I mean, there's really no reason why she can't, is there?"

Julie marks her place before setting her book down on the nightstand. "No," she says, "there's not. Why? Do you want another?" I think about this for a minute, then shrug. "I haven't really thought about it to tell the truth," I say. "I mean, I definitely wouldn't mind. If you wanted to, then I would gladly, not that it wouldn't make me happy, anyway, but..." I shrug again. "I dunno. I just haven't thought about it until now, so I really don't know if I do or not."

Julie smiles and leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder. "I don't see any reason why we shouldn't at least try," she says. "If Diane wants a younger sibling and we're both up for it, then..." She lifts her head to look at me. "Why not?" she says. For a few moments or so, we just sit there, neither of us speaking as we study each other's faces, even though we could both probably draw one another in our sleep by this point because we have pretty much every last inch of each other entirely committed to memory, especially our faces, considering all the countless hours we've spent staring at each other like this over the years.

"So...does this mean we're having another baby?" I ask finally. Julie smiles and shrugs. "To hell with it," she says. "Yeah. Yeah, let's do it, let's have another baby, baby." We both laugh, and I kiss her. It's deep and lingering, and it leaves me wanting more. When we pull apart, I can see that Julie doesn't want to stop either. I recognize that hungry gleam in her eyes, and I can see the side of her that, not long before our wedding, I nicknamed Crazy Cabernet itching to come out and reveal herself. We might give in to these desires. It is very tempting. But we both know that we can't, not with Diane sleeping just down the hall from us. We will have to wait, though neither of us wants to.

"She's spending the night with Nora this Friday," Julie whispers. "Then. I promise." I am having trouble remembering how to speak with her warm, sweetly scented breath on my face and filling my nostrils, so I just nod in response. Friday is not that far away. Today is Wednesday, so only another day. Until then, we can continue kissing as much as we want.

* * *

**AN: If anyone's wondering why Julie is reading about the true story behind _Catch Me If You Can_ (anyone who recognized it as the _Catch Me _story, GREAT JOB, YOU JUST EARNED MAJOR POINTS IN MY BOOK!), it's because my mom and I are going to see the musical tomorrow night, and I've only ever seen the movie, so I'm like UBER psyched, because I've been wanting to see the musical for quite a while now, and I can't wait!**

**xoxo,  
Maggie**


End file.
